


The Way Home

by justsomebucky



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Breakup, Car Accidents, Christmas, Exes, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Holidays, New Year's Eve, implied sexytimes, minor character pregnancy, steve rogers is your brother
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-05
Updated: 2017-07-10
Packaged: 2018-11-23 14:34:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11404443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justsomebucky/pseuds/justsomebucky
Summary: AU. Two hearts are broken after reader makes the difficult decision to leave home and pursue her dreams. When her older brother Steve asks her to come home, reader is forced to confront her past and the life she could have had with her ex, Bucky Barnes.





	1. Chapter 1

This was, at best, a huge freaking disaster waiting to happen.

“Y/N? Are you still there?”

You stared at the wall, tapping your fingers lightly on the desk that you were sitting in front of. “I- I’m here, Steve.”

He sighed on the other end of the line. “Y/N, Sharon is about to have the baby, and I’d really appreciate it if you could be here for us.”

“Can’t I just Facetime with you guys or something instead?” You winced, knowing you sounded like a terrible sister.

It’s not that you didn’t love Sharon, and you absolutely adored your big brother Steve, but things back home were…complicated.

“No. I want you to be here. Don’t you want to meet your niece or nephew?”

You didn’t reply for a beat. He knew the answer to that; of course you wanted to meet your baby niece or nephew. You couldn’t wait to spoil the baby with gifts and cuddles. That wasn’t the issue.

“Do you still hang out with _him_?” you asked quietly.

You heard Steve sigh on the other end of the line. “You know I do, sis. He’s my best friend.”

He was referring to James Buchanan Barnes, also known as Bucky.

Steve and Bucky were basically inseparable growing up. They were always on the same sports teams, always hanging out, always double dating.

You were only two years younger than Steve, but you tried to avoid him and Bucky as much as possible. They both liked to pull the older brother attitude on you. You weren’t allowed to stay out late, you weren’t allowed to go out with the quarterback of the football team, you weren’t allowed to try a cigarette…any number of things that most teenagers got to do in high school when they didn’t have someone standing over their shoulder at all times.

It had become like a game to you to see how many times you could get away with things without Steve or Bucky finding out.

They were such good friends that they decided to get an apartment with another buddy of theirs at the same local university. Best friends stick together, Steve had said at the time.

You were just relieved that you could live out your final two years of high school the way you wanted. You absolutely hated being stifled.

Eventually, you graduated, too, and you got to experience your first full year of higher education without inhibitions or self-proclaimed protectors. You rarely saw Steve or Bucky that first semester.

It wasn’t until Steve came home from university for Christmas break with Bucky in tow that you saw them both again. Your brother had told your parents that Bucky didn’t have anywhere to go over the holiday, and he didn’t want him to be alone on Christmas.

Naturally, your parents had welcomed him with open arms. They loved Bucky; he was like another son to them. As he was growing up, they had helped him with homework, and bumps when he fell off his bike, and even offered advice when he’d wanted to ask someone to Prom but was too shy. They were there for him more than his own parents.

Your newfound relationship with Bucky post-high school started out as a steady stream of innocent bickering. You were seated next to each other at the dinner table on Christmas Eve, and you’d both had a little bit of wine with dinner.

He got a little touchy, putting his hand on your arm a lot, and you had found that you _really_ liked the attention.

After dinner, when Steve was stuck on the phone with his then-girlfriend Sharon, you and Bucky snuck off to the back porch, all bundled up in the cold weather.

He casually told you that you looked cute in your hat and scarf. You begrudgingly admitted that he looked handsome in the moonlight.

Then his lips were on yours, his hands were in your hair, your body was up against the house, and you were on the receiving end of the most romantic, toe-curling kiss you’d ever had in your life.

The second you’d heard the door open, the two of you jumped apart, and Steve had no idea what had happened. He was just amazed that you and Bucky were being civil with each other for the first time that night.

It wasn’t until the day after Christmas, (and after a dozen steamy make out sessions), that Bucky finally took the initiative to sneak into your room after everyone else had gone to bed. The two of you slept together for the first time that night, and it was only the beginning for your relationship.

Steve’s relationship with Sharon blossomed in the meantime, and he hardly noticed his best friend making the same lame excuses over and over again. First, he told Steve that he was going to spend a long weekend upstate with some friends. Then when Spring break rolled around, Bucky told Steve he was going to Vegas with some of his cousins.

The truth was that Bucky was visiting you at university. Your roommate was gone a lot, and had traveled to Miami for break for an entire week. You’d decided to stay for the week and catch up on some homework. That’s when Bucky had texted you to ask if he could visit.

Not much work was done that week.

It had been months of secrecy, and you longed to tell your family about how in love with Bucky Barnes you were. You cried when he had to go back to school, but he’d simply kissed your forehead gently, telling you that he loved you too much to let distance ruin anything.

Bucky drove back to his apartment that night. Steve didn’t suspect a thing, until he picked up Bucky’s phone while he was in the shower and saw that it was you calling.

Steve had been furious at first, throwing around words like _betrayal,_ and telling Bucky he could never see you again.

But in typical Bucky fashion, he’d grabbed Steve by the shoulders and said the magic phrase.

_‘I’m in love with her, Steve.’_

The short story was that everyone in your family became enamored with the idea of you and Bucky as a couple.

The long story, well…that was a _little_ more complicated.

Bucky graduated with honors and became a high school history teacher. His job kept him in the same school district that you’d both graduated from not so long ago.

At first, it was easy to see him on weekends, breaks, and holidays since he was so close. The fact that he had the whole summer off helped your relationship, too.

Two years flew by in no time at all, and you knew Bucky was itching for more. He wanted you to settle down with him. He was content living where he’d grown up, and he wanted to raise a family there with you.

But after your own graduation, your job search stalled. Bucky assured you that you would find something in your field, but what kind of suburb needs a travel writer?

Your dream, for as long as you could remember, was to write for a travel magazine, or Frommer’s or anyone who’d have you. You wanted to see the world, and you wanted to get paid to do it. All of your professors were impressed by you and your ambitions. Even the university newspaper gave you your own column for three years, something unheard of for one person at your university. They let you travel to other campuses and points of interest around the country on their dime.

Traveling was a high for you. There was no way you’d get this out of your system right away. There was no way to fulfill your dreams and stay in the town you’d grown up in. You knew you had to be honest with Bucky, but you weren’t looking forward to it.

> _“I thought you were as committed as me,” Bucky said, running a hand through his hair in frustration. He paced the floor in front of you, while you sat staring at your hands in your lap. “I love you, Y/N, I don’t want this to come between us.”_
> 
> _“You’re older than me,” you reminded him, trying to keep your tone even. “You graduated and found a job that you love without even asking me what I wanted, without asking about what might be in our future together.”_
> 
> _“I didn’t know you had plans,” he countered, throwing his arms up in the air._
> 
> _“I told you a hundred times what I wanted to do when I graduated, Bucky, you just never listened! You had this idea of home, of family, of doing what you wanted that you didn’t even stop to consider what I wanted!”_
> 
> _Bucky’s face fell. “So…what you mean to say is…you don’t want me.”_
> 
> _Your eyes filled with tears. “I do want you, Bucky. But I want my dreams, too. If you can’t accommodate that, if you won’t even try, then I guess that’s it.”_
> 
> _He stared at you for a moment, his glassy eyes roaming your features, before he met your gaze again and gave a nod. “I guess that’s it.”_

That was four years ago, now.

Four years during which you’d gotten the job with Frommer’s, you’d traveled the world, and you’d started your own successful travel site where you documented each journey. You had a fan following and critical success for your efforts.

So why did you always feel _so empty_?

“Sis? You okay?” you heard Steve ask gently on the line, bringing you back in the moment. You’d completely zoned out, lost in your memories of the past.

“I’m fine, Steve,” you said softly. “I’m just a little anxious, that’s all.”

“Y/N, You don’t even have to see him. Just come home, okay? Sharon misses you, Mom and Dad miss you, but most importantly, I miss you.”

Your mouth quirked up. “I miss you too, Steve.”

“So you’ll be here?”

“I’ll book my plane ticket as soon as we hang up.” You reached for your laptop so that you wouldn’t chicken out.

“Good. Thank you, Y/N. I’ll see you soon. I love you.”

You let out a sigh. “I love you, too. See you soon, big brother.”

As soon as the call ended, you set your phone down on the desk and buried your head in your hands.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This even hurt me, to be honest. Sorry in advance.

The airplane from LaGuardia was jam-packed. You suspected that the timing might be why; travelers were heading to wherever they planned on spending the holidays.

You’d had no intention of heading home at all, but your sister-in-law Sharon was about to have her and Steve’s first baby, and you didn’t want to miss it. You’d promised Steve that you would be there, after all, and you were never one to break promises.

Currently, you were sat in the business class section of the plane, with your laptop perched on the tray table in front of you.

The man in the seat beside you was snoring his head off. You didn’t really mind, because it meant you had more time for yourself during the flight. Usually your seatmate liked to chat your ear off, and you’d willingly give them all your attention. You’d always been okay around strangers, for some reason, which helped immensely while you were traveling the world. It was close relationships that puzzled you.

So instead of having to make small talk with a stranger, you had the time to update your website. It wasn’t anything huge, not really, but you had some faithful followers and you were backed by Frommer’s, which was how you could afford your travels in the first place. The website and its blog were meant to be a way to connect with people, to show them the wonders of traveling.

That’s why your marketing team had nicknamed you _Wander Woman_ , and that was now your brand. It was kind of silly, and if you were ever to leave Frommer’s they’d keep the rights to it, so you weren’t all that attached.

The main thing was that it helped you show off the planet to people who might not otherwise have an opportunity to travel themselves.

You’d posted a couple of pictures of the airport, and a selfie with your Starbucks cup with the caption ‘ _While they refuel the plane, I refuel myself!’_

Now that the plane was in the air, you had more time to really delve into the comments. There were a couple of mean ones always that you simply deleted, comments that called you privileged or out-of-touch. Those people were usually just really, really bitter that you’d gotten this sweet-ass job.

Most of the users were super nice and interested in what you had to say.

> Travel_Chick88: I’m so jealous! I love NYC at Christmas!
> 
> WishUWereHere: Safe travels. I bet the people back home can’t wait to see you.
> 
> Italia4Ever: I’m going to Rome for Christmas! I can’t freaking wait!!!!
> 
> WinterButterfly: I hope you have fun! Have a safe trip home! What kind of SB did you get?

These were the kind of comments that made you smile. These four in particular were longtime commenters, always giving you feedback and wishing you well on your journeys. Interaction with the world was what you had always planned when you decided to become a travel writer.

As for the people back home, well, maybe your family couldn’t wait to see you, but that was about it. The day you left was messy at best, you remembered.

> _Bucky had insisted on driving you to the airport. It wouldn’t be right, he’d claimed, without a private goodbye._
> 
> _He pulled up to the departures gate and put the car in park, leaving the motor running. His eyes didn’t meet yours at first, though you were staring at his profile._
> 
> _“Bucky,” you whispered, not trusting that your voice wouldn’t crack with emotion at the moment. You had to be strong to get through this.  
> _
> 
> _He let out a huge sigh before turning his sad blue eyes to yours. “Doll, I thought I could do this, but…”_
> 
> _“It’s too late.” You reached out a hand and caressed his cheek gently. “It’s too late, Bucky. We both made our choices.”_
> 
> _Bucky leaned into your touch, closing his eyes for a second. When he reopened them, they were filled with tears._
> 
> _Your own tears spilled over onto your cheeks. “You’ll find someone else, Buck.”_
> 
> _“I don’t want someone else,” he countered, his voice hoarse._
> 
> _A sad smile graced your lips. “You will. You’ll forget all about me. I want you to move on and be happy.”_
> 
> _“Doll…”_
> 
> _You didn’t want to hear his pleas anymore, so you crushed your lips to his one final time, pouring every ounce of love you had for him into the kiss.  
> _
> 
> _After all, it was the last one you would ever give him._

“Miss?”

You blinked, coming out of your reverie, and looked to the flight attendant smiling at you from the aisle.

“You have to put your laptop away now, Miss, and secure the tray table. We’ll be landing shortly.”

“Thank you,” you said with a nod. You felt like the weight of the world had just reappeared on your shoulders, and you knew it was all emotional baggage.

Home was where your heart was, after all. Isn’t that what everyone says? You’d always thought that was a bit cheesy, but now you understood.

* * *

“There she is!”

You had just walked into baggage claim to find Steve standing there with your suitcase already beside him. He had a full beard, and he was wearing the ugly Christmas sweater you’d gotten him last year as a joke.

You got emotional almost immediately; your travels had kept you so busy that you’d forgotten how much you missed him. “Steve!”

He caught you in his arms and lifted you up in a giant hug. “I missed you so much!”

“I missed you more, big brother,” you exclaimed as he set you down on your feet again. “How are you? How are Mom and Dad? How’s Sharon?”

Steve laughed. “One question at a time, okay? I’m fine, better now that you’re here! Mom and Dad, I’m sure, will say the same. And Sharon is _so done_ with being pregnant. I would have brought her, but since she could go at any moment, we didn’t think it was a good idea.”

“No,” you agreed. “It’s better that she stays comfortable.”

“Come on, let’s get you home.” He grabbed your suitcase for you and wheeled it behind him, and the two of you chatted all the way to the car.

The drive to Steve’s house was short and sweet, since he lived much closer to the airport than your parents.

“I thought we’d get you settled in before we made the trip to Mom and Dad’s,” Steve reasoned. “I’m sure you’re tired and want to shower.”

“And see Sharon,” you added with a smile.

Sharon was a bright spot for your whole family. She’d come out of nowhere into Steve’s life, but you’d never seen him happier with anyone. They’d gotten married shortly after his graduation from university, and you’d been the maid of honor. It had been such a fun wedding, especially with…

You frowned to yourself as you followed Steve up the front walk. Bucky had been best man, of course. The two of you had danced the night away, laughing and smiling, happier than ever too.

“You okay, Y/N?”

Your eyes flitted up to see Steve holding the door open, his face showing concern. You tried to smile. “Fine, Stevie. Just tired, like you said.”

He made a face like he didn’t believe you, but he thankfully dropped it for now. You moved into the foyer and were immediately greeted by his mixed-breed dog, Dodger.

“Hey, buddy,” you said, bending down as the dog licked your face.

“I can see Dodger missed you, too!” Steve laughed, moving further into the room. “Sharon! Guess who’s here?”

Sharon peered around the kitchen doorway with a sheepish smile. “Hi Y/N. I’m sorry, I was having a little snack.” When she came into the room, you saw her baby belly in person for the first time.  

“How are you feeling?” you asked, giving her a light hug.

“Fantastic.” She was positively glowing with happiness, her hand moving to cover her bump. “I can’t wait to meet our little one.”

“Me either.” You looked back at Steve. “How much time do I have before we leave for Mom and Dad’s?”

“Let me call them first and find out.”

You and Sharon made small talk while Steve called your parents. He looked over to you as he ended the call. “Mom says that Dad isn’t feeling well and we should come tomorrow instead.”

“Okay,” you said with a nod. “So what do you want to do?”

“I’m going to turn in early,” Sharon interjected. “But you two should go out and have fun. It’s been a while since Steve had anyone to go hit the bars with.”

Your eyes turned back to your brother. “Why is that?”

Steve met your gaze with a pause, and you could tell he was contemplating something. “No one to go out with,” he said finally. “I’m an old man now, remember?”

“Please,” you scoffed. “You’re not old. You’re just in Dad mode.”

“Why don’t you go shower and we’ll go to my favorite pub downtown?”

“ _Downtown_ , I remember when I thought this place was a big city,” you joked, running up the stairs with a shriek as Steve pretended to charge at you.

* * *

Going out with your older brother was _always_ a good time. He had such a great personality and sense of humor, and the two of you were still close. He bought you a drink as the two of you settled at a table near the old fashioned jukebox.

“What song was it that you used to play all the time, sis?” Steve squinted at the jukebox as if it was going to remind him. “Back on winter breaks when we’d all meet here?”

“It was ‘ _I Wanna Dance With Somebody’_ by Whitney Houston,” you supplied with a grin. 

Everyone had always groaned when you played it, but you couldn’t help yourself. It was one of your favorite songs, an eighties classic. It always got people up and dancing, so you were never sure why they complained so much.

Your older brother laughed, his hand smacking off the table lightly. “That’s it! Man, all the frat boys that would be in here used to get so mad at you.”

“I didn’t care. I had you to back me up,” you shrugged. “They wouldn’t mess with my big brother.”

“And you always ended up dancing with half the bar,” he added, raising an eyebrow at you.

“No,” you refuted. “Not after Bucky and I got together. I’d only dance with him, then.”

“True.” Steve cleared his throat uncomfortably, then nodded at your empty glass. “Want another one? I’m buying tonight.”

“Well then, hell yes! And while you’re doing that, I think I’m going to wander over to the jukebox and take some pictures for old times’ sake. Maybe I’ll write about this place for my blog.”

“The owner would love you for it. You remember Scott Lang, don’t you?”

Your eyes widened. “No way! Scotty owns this place now? That’s awesome. Yeah, I’m definitely going to put it on my site then. If he lets me, of course.”

Steve glanced at the bar. “Let me go find out if he’s here for you.”

“Thanks, Steve.” You watched your brother walk over to the bar before you reached for your mobile and made your way over to the jukebox. A small smile formed on your lips as you looked over the old thing fondly. You snapped a few pictures of it before putting some money in.

A quick search led you to the song you wanted, and you pushed the numbers and then the ‘play next’ button. The first few beats of the song played out over the speakers, and to your surprise, no one groaned.

You started singing the words under your breath, moving your shoulders to the beat as you turned to walk back to your seat.

When you turned around, though, you saw a pair of familiar eyes looking back at you.

Bucky Barnes was sitting at the table opposite of the jukebox, his hand intertwined with the hand of the beautiful woman sitting beside him.

He was staring at you, his expression just as shocked as how you were feeling.

You felt heat rise in your cheeks, and you quickly ducked your head to hurry back to your table.

Steve was already sitting there, and he pushed your drink closer to you. “I didn’t find Scott, but I guess you found your song.”

“Steve,” you whispered, your eyes wide. You were fidgeting, totally uncomfortable in your own skin in that moment.

“What’s wrong?” He looked alarmed now. “Are you all right?”

“ _He’s_ here.”

“Who?”

“ _Bucky_.”

Realization washed over Steve’s face. “Shit. I’m so sorry, sis. I didn’t think he’d even be around today. He told me- I thought for sure he’d be upstate with– you know what, never mind. Do you want to leave?”

“Upstate with that woman he was holding hands with?” you asked meekly, staring down at your drink. “Who is she?” You knocked back your second drink in a couple of gulps while Steve eyed you anxiously.

“You don’t know her,” he said quietly, placing a comforting hand on your arm. “Her name is Ana. She was a substitute teacher at the school. They hit it off.”

“H-how long have they been together?” You cringed, not really wanting to know the answer, but _needing_ to.

“About two years.”

“Are they– are they married?” You swallowed hard, not meeting your brother’s eyes.

“No,” he said gently. “They aren’t even engaged.”

You finally lifted your gaze to look at Steve. “I can tell that there’s a ‘but’ that you’re leaving out.”

“But,” Steve continued, his voice soft, “he’s got a ring. I saw it last time I was at his place. I don’t think he realized that I saw it.”

With a firm nod, you grabbed your coat and bag. “I think we should go. I’ll talk to Scott tomorrow.”

“Okay.” Steve got his own coat on and turned to you again. “I really am sorry, Y/N. I never meant for this to happen.”

“I know, Stevie,” you assured him. “I know you wouldn’t. I’m just that unlucky. Come on, let’s go home. I have to update my site anyways.” You turned to the door, refusing to glance over your shoulder like you desperately wanted to. 

The two of you left the bar, not noticing the pair of bright blue eyes that watched you go.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The exes finally have a chat, but does it make things better, or worse?

“Hey, sis? Sharon and I are going out to the mall for some last-minute gifts, wanna come with us? We figured that shopping early in the day would be less of a hassle.”

You looked up as your big brother walked into the den, where you were currently hovering over your laptop checking work emails. “Sure. I don’t think I need anything else, but it’ll be nice to step away from this.”

“Okay, we’re leaving in ten minutes.” He disappeared as fast as he’d arrived, before you could even reply again. Steve was always all business.

After answering one last email, you closed your laptop with a satisfying _click_ and stretched in your seat.

Your editors had liked your pitch about the bar, but they wanted something bigger than just one location. They had said that every other site was advertising articles on the top ten Christmas getaways, thinking that people would want to see the world for the holidays.

Frommer’s wanted to try something different, using you and your brand name as an example.

_Wander Woman: Home For the Holidays._ You had tried to fight them on the cheesy title, but they insisted. The first part of the article would reiterate what you’d already blogged about: the plane trip, your arrival back home, your reactions. The bar and visiting other local establishments would be part two. Part three was going to be about family and friends. Part four would be having to leave it behind again, and your conclusions if you had any.

They really knew how to suck the life out of a fun project.

The good news was, they were going to feature your piece on the front of their website, right between _Where Not to Go for Your Winter Honeymoon_ and the _Top Ten Best Breakfast Spots in the US._ It would get you more page views, and possibly more freedom to do stories that you wanted to do, if you were lucky.

After changing into something warmer, the three of you piled into Steve’s SUV and headed for the local mall.

“Parking is a nightmare,” Steve muttered, glancing left and right before cautiously driving into the parking garage. “Can’t even imagine what it will be like tonight.”

“If you’d gotten everything when I had asked you to, we wouldn’t have to be out right now at all,” Sharon fired back playfully.

You kept quiet, staring out the window in the backseat. Crowds didn’t make you nervous, but there was something extra crazy about holiday shoppers that you didn’t like to experience.

The inside of the mall was no better. Everyone must have had the same idea as Steve, thinking that arriving earlier would be better.

People were rushing everywhere, kids were lined up to get their pictures taken with Santa, and you were itching to get away from it all already.

“I’m going to go to the bookstore,” you informed Steve and Sharon. “Text me when you’re ready to leave.”

They agreed, and you followed the familiar route to the only bookstore left in the entire town. It was a beautiful store with loads of things to read or look at, and it even had a coffee shop. You figured that you would find a book, have a hot chocolate, and maybe take some more pictures while you waited for your brother and sister-in-law to finish up.

Your eyes flitted around at the different genre signs, skimming right over travel (you needed a break from it to be honest), and landing on contemporary romance.

This was a secret that no one knew about you, not even your closest friends in New York, your colleagues, or even Steve.

_You were a sucker for romance novels._ It made you cringe just thinking about it, but it was true.

After perusing the shelf for a few minutes, you found one that seemed okay, grabbed it, and wandered over to the coffee shop to order your cocoa.

You used Snapchat’s Christmas filter to take a selfie with your drink, and posted it to your blog via your phone. This time, you added the caption: _How to have a good time at a mall before Christmas!_

Some fifty pages read later, after you were fully engrossed in the romantic lives of Claudia and Dean, her best friend slash love interest, you finally got a text from Steve that they were ready to go.

Since you weren’t about to drop this romance now, so you paid for your book and headed out of the bookstore to meet Steve and Sharon.

The second you spotted them, you stopped right in your tracks.

They weren’t alone.

Bucky and _his girlfriend_ were with them, chatting away. What are the freaking odds?

You glanced around to see if there was any way to make it outside without being seen, but they were in the most direct path to the parking garage. _Dammit!_

Bucky chose that exact moment to look over at you.

The tips of your ears grew warm, and you looked away from him, telling yourself that it was too late to run now. Your grip tightened on the shopping bag you were carrying, and you took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as you made your way over to the group.

“There she is,” Sharon said, smiling sympathetically at you. “Ready to go?”

“Yep. I got a book. I’m good!” You wondered if you sounded as fake as you felt. The awkward need to greet Bucky overwhelmed you, so you turned to him. “Hi, Bucky.”

What the hell was wrong with you? _Hi, Bucky?_  It’s been four years since you spoke to or saw the love of your life, and all you could come up with was _that_?

“Hi, Y/N,” he replied with an amused look in his eyes. You wondered if your discomfort was showing on your face.

“Hi, I don’t think we’ve met.” The woman beside him reached out her hand to you, a forced smile plastered on her face. “I’m Ana.”

“Y/N,” you supplied, shaking her hand for two Mississippis before letting go. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet _you_ ,” she parroted back. “Bucky has told me so much about you.”

“Has he?” You glanced up at him, and the second his eyes locked on yours again, a nervous jolt went through your system. Why would someone you used to know so well make you nervous?

“Just a little bit of Christmas nostalgia, that’s all,” Bucky explained, offering a shrug and a sheepish smile.

You couldn’t stop your own smile from forming. After all, you could relate. Everything about Christmas reminded you of him.

Steve cleared his throat. “Sis, we’re gonna head out, Sharon’s getting tired. Do you need a minute, or-?”

“No.” You shook your head, looking back to the other couple. “It was nice seeing you again, Bucky. Merry Christmas to you both.”

“Merry Christmas!” Ana turned away and pulled on Bucky’s arm, but his eyes stayed glued to yours.

“Merry Christmas, Y/N,” he said softly, his expression unreadable. After a beat, he moved away from you and followed his girlfriend further into the mall.

You turned to catch up to Sharon and Steve at the exit, biting your lip to stop yourself from getting emotional.

* * *

“Thank you for meeting with me today,” you told your old high school classmate, Scott Lang. “I think that I have everything I need for the article.”

Scott grinned at you. “I appreciate any free advertising I can get! This is such a big deal, Frommer’s is so cool. Thank you so much. I can’t wait to read it.”

His enthusiasm was infectious, and you silently promised that you would put your best efforts into this piece for him. “If I have any questions I will give you a call,” you said, offering him a smile. “See you later, Scott!”

“Later, Y/N!”

You turned to leave the bar, scooting past a couple of people doing shots and straight out the door. It was blustery and gross outside, so you pulled your hat on your head, adjusted your scarf, and turned to the left to go back to the main street in town to do a little more shopping. Steve had told you that he would swing by to pick you up once he’d picked up takeout for dinner, so you figured you had some time to kill.

The downtown shopping area was so beautiful during the holidays. Lights were on every tree, wreaths on every street light, and all the shops decorated their windows with holiday displays. There was even a big Christmas tree in the middle of the square. The snow flurries that were all around you just added to the atmosphere. You decided to take more pictures for your story.

Just as you were snapping a photo of a costumed Buddy the Elf walking around and greeting children, you felt a tap on your shoulder. A chill went down your spine as you made eye contact with Bucky Barnes for the second time that day.

“Hey, Doll,” he said, the corner of his mouth lifting up. “Aren’t you sick of shopping yet?”

You turned to him fully, raising an eyebrow. “Aren’t you?”

“God, yes,” he relented with a laugh. “I’m so tired. I just want to go home and kick my feet up with a beer and watch Christmas movies.”

Damn, did that sound nice. You remembered those days, cuddling with Bucky at Christmastime. The apartment you’d shared hadn’t been big, but it had been cozy, and you’d made some of your favorite memories in that old place with him. You taught him how to bake cookies, and he taught you how to replace various things around the house, and you’d worked together so well it hurt.

Well, it hurt _now_ , anyways.

You gave him a smile. “I’m just waiting for Steve to pick me up.”

He gave a nod, his brows furrowing.

“What?” you asked. He had that look on his face, the one that you recognized from when he wanted to say something but didn’t know how.

“Do you, maybe, want to get a drink with me before you meet him?”

“I don’t know if I’ve got that kind of time,” you said softly, feeling your heart sink. “He was just picking up takeout for dinner.”

“Ah,” Bucky nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets and looking down.

Disappointment rolled through you. This was him trying to throw out a peace offering, handing an olive branch to you so that you could be friends again. You couldn’t let this moment pass. What if this was your last opportunity before he proposed to Ana? “But, I could always text him that I have other plans?”

He looked up at you, eyes hopeful. “Yeah? I mean, I can drive you back to his place after, no problem.”

“Are you sure Ana won’t mind?” You chewed your lip at the thought of his girlfriend.

“Nah,” he said, shrugging one shoulder. “She’s off having a spa day with her sister. I’d mentioned wanting to hang out with you and Steve today, and she seemed cool with it. I just never got around to actually making the plans.”

Now, your smile was genuine. “Well, Steve isn’t here, but I am. Lead the way.”

Bucky led you to a restaurant that was around the corner, since you were going to be missing dinner now. He held the door open for you, and the two of you found a table near the window.

You weren’t sure why you’d been nervous at all; dinner was full of laughs and memories, of smiles and nostalgia. Neither of you brought up the fact that you’d seen each other at the bar the other night. Instead, conversation with Bucky was so easy and familiar, and it felt like no time at all had passed since you’d last had a meaningful chat.

At least, it did, until Ana called him to check up on him, and you had to listen to him talk softly to her the way he used to speak to you when you’d call.

You glanced out the window, trying not to let it get to you. Why the hell was it getting to you?

_You were the one that walked away_ , you reminded yourself for what seemed like the hundredth time since you arrived home.

“Sorry about that,” he said awkwardly, setting his phone down on the table. “What were we talking about?”

“It’s getting late, Buck. Maybe we should get going.”

His face fell. “I’m sorry if that made you feel uncomfortable,” he groaned, his hand covering his eyes briefly. “We were doing so well, too.”

You chuckled. “It was a nice dinner. It’s getting late, though.”

“Let’s just split a dessert, and then I’ll drive you to Steve’s, okay?”

Your eyes drifted over to the dessert menu. “That’s not fair at all. You know I cannot resist cheesecake.”

Bucky laughed, his eyes crinkling in that handsome way you used to love. “I know it. You can’t be mad for me using my knowledge against you.”

“Well, not if it gets me cheesecake.” You smirked up at him, and he grinned at you in return.

When the order finally arrived, the two of you scooped pieces from opposite ends.

“Oh for pete’s sake,” you practically moaned. “I forgot how good the dessert was here.”

“I didn’t,” he said, licking his fork happily.

You couldn’t help but stare at his mouth for a few seconds before forcing your gaze back to the food in front of you. “So,” you began, trying to distract yourself. “How have you been these past four years? Are you still teaching?”

“I am,” he confirmed. “They let me start a history club after school, too. It’s been pretty fun so far.” He took another big bite of the cheesecake, inching closer to what you had deemed to be your half. You were sure you were going to have to fight him for it.

“That’s amazing,” you told him, sincerely happy for him. That had been one of his goals way back when. “If you guys ever want to travel to New York, let me know, I can use my connections.”

Bucky smiled at you. “That would be nice. I bet the students would love it.”

“I just remember thinking about wanting to travel when I was in high school, so, I can relate.” When you actually played your own words back in your head, you felt like an asshole. Of course you’d wanted to travel. That was what caused all this in the first place, that was why you worked where you did. It was why you’d left Bucky behind.

He cleared his throat. “How’s traveling going?”

“It’s been really fantastic.” You looked back down at the dessert, watching as the chocolate drizzle on top slowly made its way to the plate. “I’ve been to so many great places and met a lot of interesting people. It really changes you.”

“You seem like the same person to me,” he said softly, taking another bite.

That piece was definitely on your half of the cheesecake, but there was no fight left in you, not after his comment. You felt deflated. “Well I didn’t go traveling to find myself, Bucky. I went because I wanted to see the world, and to help others see it, too.”

“I know.” His blue eyes were a little sadder than before, but he gave you a smile anyways. “I’m glad you got to accomplish your dreams.”

“I’m glad you did, too.”

A stretch of silence filled the space between the two of you as you both ruminated over your past choices. After a few minutes, the waitress brought the check, and Bucky insisted on paying like the gentleman he is.

You followed him out into the cold to his car, which wasn’t parked that far away. He opened the door for you, and you thanked him and slid in to the familiar sedan that he’d had back when you were dating.

The whole thing was eerie. The car, the route, the time of year; it all screamed Bucky to you, and now he was next to you and you didn’t know how to act.

You filled the silence this time with polite chatter, asking after his family (they were fine), asking about how he and Ana met (though you already knew she was a substitute teacher), and by the time he pulled the car into Steve’s driveway, you were all out of small talk.

“Thank you for dinner, and the ride home,” you told him, your mouth quirking up. “It was fun catching up.”

“It was,” he breathed out, looking first at the house, then back to you. His fingers were tapping on the steering wheel haphazardly as if he was feeling uneasy.

“Do you want to come in?” _Why the hell would you offer that? He’s practically married,_ you shouted internally.

“I should get home,” he declined. “Thank you for the offer though.”

“Okay. Goodnight, Bucky.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

It felt weird to leave the car without giving him a kiss, but you pushed your door open and shut it behind you, offering a final wave.

Bucky waited until you were inside to back down the driveway and speed off, presumably headed back to his girlfriend. He was headed back to his home or apartment he shared with her, where he would be cozy and warm and watching Christmas movies with her instead of you.

You leaned your back against the door and closed your eyes, knowing you were going to be in trouble if you stayed in town much longer.

The reasons why you left were still true, but now you were starting to remember all the nagging reasons that you’d wanted to stay, too.

All of them had to do with Bucky Barnes.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: language, fluff, angst, tw: car accident

You hadn’t laughed this hard in a long, long time.

Steve, Sharon, you, and your parents were playing Apples to Apples, and your dad’s reactions to things were _so funny_. He would snort and then cover his mouth, and then Steve would break into laughter, and so on until all of you were clutching your stomachs and trying to catch a breath.

It was so nice to just be with family and relax. Your mom, Sharon, and Steve were all on the couch, and you and your dad were sat in opposite armchairs. There were holiday decorations all around the room, and the fireplace was lit, giving it this soft, cozy feeling. You’d snuck a couple of pictures just so you wouldn’t forget the scene or the feeling of being home for Christmas.

You’d been lazy and hadn’t done any work all day, though you probably should have. Yesterday had been kind of fun though, even if it was technically for your job. Scott had been so happy that you were going to promo his bar for free that you knew you’d made the right call. Besides, people love human interest pieces, and the struggle Scott went through to finally secure his dream of owning a business was definitely going to be a hit.

Then there was that other little piece of yesterday, the part spent with Bucky. You tried not to dwell on it, though. That could only get you into trouble.

When your game was finally finished, Sharon and your mother went off to bed, leaving you with Steve and your father in the den.

“I can’t believe you went cliff diving,” Steve said, shaking his head. “You, who used to be too scared to climb the tree out back with me.”

“That was _different_ ,” you retorted. “You aren’t a professional, and by the way, you totally broke your arm doing that once, so why should I have trusted you?”

“You both got grounded for climbing things and jumping off of things more times than I can count,” your dad added, rolling his eyes. “It was all your mother and I could do to prevent crazy emergency room bills.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve toned it down this past year.”

That was definitely true. You’d done the adventurous stuff in the beginning of your career to gain followers and please your editors. Now that you had more of an established name, you were allowed to do some in-depth photo series and stories about your travels. For instance, right before Steve’s guilt-inducing telephone call, you’d been doing a short piece about tourism and its comeback along the East Coast since Hurricane Sandy struck years ago.

“Your site has more of a photojournalist feel now,” Steve mused, glancing over at you. “That piece you did on flood victims in the south was really moving.”

“I guess I just got the adventure of it out of my system,” you admitted with a casual shrug. “Four years is a long time to bounce from one place to the next. I haven’t seen the entire planet, just the commercially acceptable places, and I wanted to change that.”

“I’m proud of you, honey,” your father said with a small smile. “You always said you were going to travel, and you did it.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

“Well, this is a lot of excitement for your old man for one day, so I’m going to turn in. Goodnight, kiddos.”

“Night!”

“Night, Dad.”

You waited until your father was up the stairs before looking at Steve. “Now what?”

“It’s not all _that_ late,” he said with a grin. “What do you want to do?”

Your eyes flitted to the clock on the wall. “There’s nothing to do in this town after ten, Steve.”

“Yeah,” he sighed out. “You’re right. I forgot how boring it is here.”

“You only live twenty minutes away,” you reminded him with a laugh.

“That twenty minutes makes a big difference. I mean, we have stop lights and stuff.”

There was a few beats of comfortable silence, before your stupid nagging brain got the better of you again. “Steve?”

“Hmm?” He closed his eyes and laid his head back against the couch.

 _Please don’t bring it up,_ you pleaded internally. Your curiosity won out though; you had to ask. “How long did he wait?”

“How long did who wait?”

“How long did Bucky wait before he moved on?”

That got Steve’s attention. His eyes popped open and he turned to you, giving you his full attention. That older brother concern was back on his face. “He didn’t even go on a single date for an entire year, Y/N. You really messed him up.”

Your heart dropped. “I told him to move on.”

He gave you a sad smile. “You really thought that he was gonna listen to you? That it would be that easy for him?”

“I was hoping.” You looked down at your hands.

“What about you?”

“What about me?” You shrugged again. “I didn’t have time to see anyone for more than a date or two. You saw what I was doing online didn’t you? At least you told me you read the site.”

“I did, I promise. I know we never really talked about it, but in four years, you didn’t have any relationships?”

Your eyes filled with tears, and you blinked rapidly to try to hold them back. “Bucky wasn’t the only one who was messed up.”

“Oh, sis,” Steve sighed, standing up and walking over to your chair. He pulled you up to your feet and wrapped his arms around you, giving you a big hug.

“You have to stop,” you said, half laughing and half crying, trying to push him off of you. “I don’t want to get emotional!”

“And you have to let it out,” he murmured, resting his chin on your head. You finally stopped struggling and followed his advice, resting your head against his shoulder and leaning into his brotherly embrace.

After a few minutes, you did feel better. You pulled away and this time he let you, with a sympathetic smile on his face.

“Do you feel a little better at least?”

“I do. Thank you.”

“Anytime, Y/N. Now, we might as well get to sleep. It’s supposed to snow overnight so there’s not much point in going anywhere right now.”

“Goodnight, Steve. Thanks for being so awesome.”

“Goodnight, Y/N, and back at you.”

* * *

You awoke to the sound of your phone going off on the nightstand next to you. Your hand reached out for it, bringing it close enough to see who was calling.

Steve? Why was Steve calling?

You quickly answered. “Steve? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong! Sharon went into labor and we were in such a rush we forgot to wake you! Mom and Dad are still sleeping, too. I drove her to the hospital, but I don’t think you guys should try to come, it’s getting bad out here.

“Do you want me to wake Mom and Dad and tell them? What about Sharon’s parents?”

“Sharon’s parents live down the road from the hospital, so they are on their way. I really mean it, though, sis, it’s awful out. Don’t try to come until morning when the roads have been plowed.”

“Okay,” you relented, pulling the blankets off your body. “But I’m-“

“Sorry, sis, the doctor says it’s go-time. I’ll keep you updated, okay?”

“I love you both!”

“Love you, too!”

The call ended, so you tossed the phone on the bed and got up to look outside.

What was he talking about? It didn’t look _that_ bad.

With a sigh, you padded out of your room and knocked on your parents’ bedroom door. Your mother answered. “Y/N? Are you okay?”

“Sharon’s having the baby!”

“Oh, goodness! Why didn’t he wake us?”

“He said that the roads are bad, but I just looked outside and they look fine?”

“I don’t know, if Steve says they are bad, then they must be. We can go in the morning. Keep us updated, okay?”

“Okay, Mom, will do.”

She shut the door, presumably to go back to sleep, but you were wide awake and full of energy now.

After about ten minutes of relentless pacing and checking your phone, you knew you only had one option. “This is ridiculous,” you muttered. “I’m going.” You hurried back to your room to get dressed.

Your parents had two cars, but your mother never drove hers anywhere. It was a nice Honda, though a little on the older side, and it had never given anyone trouble in winter before, so you figured that even if you did see some snow on the roads, you’d be okay.

After you wrote a quick note to your parents, you took a selfie and posted it to your blog with the caption ‘ _About to become an Auntie! On my way to the hospital now.’_

The keys to the Honda were in a bowl by the door, so once you bundled up you grabbed them and left as quietly as you could.

Steve and Sharon had chosen a hospital closer to where they live because it specialized in women’s health. It was about fifteen minutes north of your parents’ house, so you knew the route by heart, having traveled it a lot as a teenager.

You gripped the wheel, your breath visible in front of you as you started the engine and backed slowly down the driveway. There was literally nothing on the road; Steve must have gone before the plow trucks could salt or something.

Your phone was ringing again, but you didn’t want to take your eyes off the road to check it, so you let it go to voicemail instead. When it rang a second time, you huffed out an annoyed sigh and reached for it on the passenger seat with your right hand.

It was forgotten again in an instant when you felt the old Honda start to slide.

“Shit!” you cried out, trying to steer your car to keep it on the road.

There must have been a patch of black ice back there, and it was too late for you to recover.

You felt adrenaline pump through your body as the car spun twice before leaving the road. Your body jolted the second it hit a snow pile. The car stopped when it hit a ditch, thankfully coming to a rest before going over a small hillside.

“Oh no, oh no,” you chanted, eyes wide.

The airbag hadn’t deployed, so it couldn’t have been too bad an impact, but you were shaking hard, so hard that you couldn’t maintain a grip on your cellphone to call for help.

“Dammit!” Why hadn’t you listened to your brother? That was something that was always getting you in trouble. Steve never told you what to do unless it was important, but you were _so damn stubborn_ that you rarely ever listened.

You never listened to anyone, it seemed.

Your parents were gonna be pissed. Maybe you could help pay for the damages. Your mind was going a hundred thoughts a minute, and the cold was starting to seep into your body now that the adrenaline was fading.

You reached for your phone again, realizing that a number that wasn’t in your contact list had tried to call you twice. You pressed play on the voicemail.

_“Doll, I don’t think you should be driving right now. It’s probably okay south of town here, but there’s ice everywhere. Okay? This is Bucky, by the way, just…just text me back.”_

How the hell did Bucky know you were driving north tonight?

Your eyes widened. You bet Steve texted him to let him know about the baby. He knew you were bound to not listen to Steve, so he reached out to you.

Instinctively, and frankly too cold to care about repercussions, you pressed the call back option.

He didn’t even say hello. “Tell me you didn’t go out?”

Your eyes filled with tears at the sound of his voice. “Buck, you know I never listen.”

“Doll, are you okay? You don’t sound okay.”

“I’m in a ditch.”

“What?!” You heard a puff of air over the line. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Just a little shaken up.”

“Tell me where you are, I’m coming to get you.”

“No,” you protested weakly. “There’s black ice everywhere, Bucky, it’s not safe. I’m going to call triple A and see if they can-“

“ _I’m coming to get you._ Where are you?”

You looked out the window for reference. “I’m off of Third and Pineview. The only car in a ditch.” You tried to joke to make it seem less awful than it was, but your shaking voice gave you away.

“Be there in five.” He ended the call without letting you protest anymore.

What the hell had just happened? He offered to come rescue you, just like that?

And he still had your number?

You rubbed your hands together and blew into them, trying to stay warm. A little bit of guilt seeped into you; you’d deleted his number the second you’d gotten out of his car at the airport.

The sight of his name in your contact list had just been too much for you at the time. The urge to call or text was there constantly, especially those first few months away. It wasn’t until you started delving deeply into your work that the pain lessened, and so did your desire to call him.

You _wanted_ him to move on. You wanted him to be happy and have the job and family he dreamed of.

To try to distract yourself from the fact that you were shivering harder now, you played a game. The game was to imagine what would have happened if one of you had given in. Which life would have been better? Would you have come to resent each other? Would you have a beautiful family by now?

This went on and on until a tap on the window brought you out of your thoughts. Your eyes locked onto those familiar blue eyes, and you couldn’t help but instantly feel better.

Bucky had parked his car on the side of the road and put his four-way flashers on to let other drivers know that there was dangerous black ice around. It was a nice gesture, but no one was as dumb as you that night, as no other cars were even on the road. Just you, the girl who was making some pretty bad decisions lately, and poor Bucky.

He stepped back so you could open the door carefully. It took a few tries, but it finally popped open.

“I guess that means the car is totaled,” you observed quietly, grabbing your bag and phone and stepping out into the cold night. “The frame must be bent.”

“Looks like,” Bucky agreed, his tone flat. He reached for your arm and helped you walk through the snow to the passenger side of his car. Once you were safe inside in the warmth, he took a moment to really look at you. “Are you sure you’re okay? Does anything hurt?”

“I’m fine,” you replied softly, trying to keep calm. You _really_ didn’t want to cry in front of him.

He gave a short nod. “I’m going to go get the insurance information from the glove box and lock it up. We can call Triple A from the hospital.”

“Okay,” you whispered, feeling completely idiotic.

Once he’d done all that and gotten back in the car, he adjusted the heat. “Are you warm enough?”

“I’m fine.”

Bucky paused, both hands on the wheel. His brows were furrowed as if he wanted to say something more but was stopping himself.

“Go ahead,” you offered. “Tell me how stupid I am. I already know.”

“Nah,” he replied, his voice sounding defeated. “I know you’re going to always do what you want to do. I’m just…I’m glad you’re okay.” He turned the key in the ignition, effectively ending the discussion for now.

The ride to the hospital was quiet except the soft music from the car radio. When you arrived, he parked and came around to your side, offering you his arm.

After all he’d done for you already, you weren’t about to be a jerk about it, so you took his arm, letting him lead you across the parking lot and into the hospital.

“If you need to be looked at, now’s the time.” Bucky turned and let his eyes wander over you in the light of the lobby, checking for injuries.

“I promise, I’m fine,” you told him. “Just a little shaken. Thank you for coming to get me.”

His eyes flickered up to yours, but he didn’t say anything.

A woman at desk came over to you. “Can I help you?”

“Which way is maternity?” Bucky asked.

Once the two of you made your way to the right floor, you decided to occupy yourselves until you figured out what was going on.

“I’ll go ask after Sharon,” Bucky offered.

“I should call to get the car towed.” You reached for your phone in your bag. There was only about one-fourth of a battery charge left and you didn’t have a charger, but you weren’t about to ask for another favor right now.

You watched as Bucky turned to go to the nurses’ station, while you found the number for Triple A and hit call.

* * *

Yeah, you _really_ shouldn’t have bothered to rush to the hospital. Sharon was still in labor, and Steve was in with her. Sharon’s parents went across the street for breakfast.

Bucky was still sitting beside you, his face expressionless. He was staring at the big TV and the wall across from you, but you could tell he wasn’t really paying attention.

“I’m sorry,” you said suddenly. You wanted to kick yourself; why did you insist on doing this now?

His gaze turned to you. “For what?”

“Being an idiot and going out on the roads.”

“All that matters is that you’re okay. Cars can be fixed or replaced, but people can’t be replaced."

You stared at this man next to you, the one you used to know so well, in absolute awe. It was difficult to admit, but you missed being taken care of. Traveling all over didn’t afford you any opportunities of the sort unless the people doing the care-taking were well-paid.

This sort of kindness was free and much more meaningful.

You nodded, looking away again. It was too much, this whole situation was bringing back a flood of feelings that you had thought you’d gotten rid of years ago. Boy, were you wrong.

“I should call my parents.” You let out a sigh and rubbed your eyes before reaching for your phone. A frown formed on your face when you realized the battery had died. Ugh, why didn’t you shut it off earlier?

Oh right, because you were a freaking _mess_.

“Something wrong?”

“My phone battery died.”

Bucky reached into his pocket and handed you his. “Here, use mine.”

You accepted it gratefully, standing up. “I’m going to go in the hall where it’s a bit quieter. I have to break the news about the car.”

“Good luck.” The corner of his mouth lifted up a little for the first time all night.

They took it better than you’d expected. Like Bucky, they were just glad that you were okay. When you ended the call, you accidentally hit the web browser button on Bucky’s phone.

To your shock, the site on the screen was your own travel site…

…and he was _logged in to an account._

You glanced up through the glass door. Bucky wasn’t watching, so you looked at the screen name.

 _Bucky was_ _WishUWereHere_?

Your heart started racing. What did that mean? That username was one of the ones that had been commenting for _years_ , following you in your travels with kind well-wishes.

The two of you had debated back and forth on the best desserts, and the place you most want to go in the world. That user had become almost like a friend over the years.

You couldn’t believe that had been him this whole time.

You definitely weren’t ready to confront him and talk about it. You closed the browser quickly and pulled the call app back up to make it look like you’d just hung up. When you handed it back to him, you kept your cool. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” Bucky hit the lock button and slid his phone back into his pocket, completely oblivious to what you’d just seen.

So that was how he knew you were driving to the hospital. It could also explain the mall and seeing him randomly downtown.

The question was, if he’d moved on, _why was he still following your life_?


	5. Chapter 5

“Give her to me, right now!” You held out your grabby hands at your brother until he relented and handed you your baby niece. “Aunt Y/N is here,” you cooed, smiling down at the little bundle of joy in your arms.

Your niece was officially a Christmas baby. She’d been born at quarter to eleven on Christmas night, and she’d kept everyone up since. This was the first time since Sharon had brought her home this morning, two days past Christmas, that she’d stopped crying, and you took full advantage of it.

Since she was a Christmas baby, Steve and Sharon had decided spur-of-the-moment to name her Noelle, which you thought was a lovely name. You readily admitted to yourself, however, that she could have been called Patches and you would have thought it was cute, that’s how adorable she was.

Steve grabbed your phone to take a picture of the two of you. “Smile, Sis!”

You gave him a big grin, moving your arms so that Noelle’s face could be seen a little better.

“That’s a nice one,” he commented. “Maybe good enough for her public debut on your blog?”

“Are you using me for publicity?” you asked, smirking at your older brother.

“Nah, I just want the whole world to know how cute she is!”

Your parents laughed from the couch. “She is a looker. Gonna have to lock her up when the boys come knocking,” your dad said, nodding at Steve.

“She’s not going to be allowed to date until she’s thirty-five,” Steve declared, leaning back in his chair. “That’s final.”

“That’s what your mother and I tried to tell Y/N, but noooo.”

You rolled your eyes at your father. “I barely dated, Dad.”

“That’s true. Say, where is Bucky tonight, anyways?”

Your eyes dropped down to Noelle, and you gave her your pinky finger to avoid looking at anyone.

“Oh, honey, you know they aren’t together anymore, why would you bring him up?” Your mom tried to soothe the situation, but the damage was done.

Your father cleared his throat. “He’s still family.”

“No, he’s right Mom,” you said softly. You looked back up to them, the corner of your mouth lifting slightly. “He’s still family. He’s still Steve’s best friend. He has a right to be here.”

“Bucky’s actually on his way over,” Steve said with a frown, glancing at his phone. “Apparently I didn’t get his texts from earlier. He left from Ana’s parents’ house upstate earlier to come see the baby.”

“So when is he supposed to get -” Your mother’s question was cutoff when the doorbell rang.

Steve gave you an apologetic glance. “Do you want me to take her so you can disappear for a while?”

“No,” you said, shaking your head. “It’s my turn to hold her. Everyone else can wait for their own turn.”

“That’s not what I meant, Sis.”

“I know. Just answer the door already, it’s cold outside,” you muttered, smiling down at Noelle when she gripped your pinky again.

When Steve came back in with Bucky in tow, your parents both stood to greet him warmly. You remained in your chair, unwilling to disturb the baby.

“Come on, honey, let’s go make some coffee,” your mother suggested, pulling your father into the kitchen.

You saw a pair of feet with blue socks standing in front of you, and when you looked up, Bucky smiled at you.

“So who’s this?” he asked, nodding toward your niece.

“This is Noelle,” you informed him, your own proud smile forming. “She is a Christmas baby, and she’s beautiful and soft and I’m keeping her. Sorry, Steve.”

Both men laughed at that.

“I’m going to go shower real quick since you’re watching her. You know where everything is, right?”

“Yes,” you said impatiently. “Go away. It’s my turn with her.”

“Fine. I’ll be back in twenty.” He turned to Bucky, clapping him on the shoulder. “You didn’t have to make the long drive, man, but it’s good to see you. Thanks for coming to meet my daughter.”

“Of course,” Bucky said, grinning at his friend. “Can’t believe you have a kid. Man, we’re getting old.”

“Tell me about it,” Steve agreed, before turning and jogging up the stairs to go shower.

Bucky turned his attention back to you and the baby.

You eyed him carefully. “How was your Christmas?”

“It was nice,” he replied. “Ana’s family took us skiing, which, by the way, I totally suck at.”

You snorted softly. “I remember.”

“How was yours? Obviously pretty good now that you have a niece.”

“Yeah.” You smiled at her again, her brown eyes opening and staring back at you. “She’s the cutest thing ever. Do you want to hold her?”

When you didn’t hear a reply, you glanced back up at Bucky and found him staring blankly, a faraway look on his face. “Earth to Bucky. Do you want to hold her?”

Bucky shook his head slightly, blinking a few times to focus. “I’m sorry?”

“I said, would you like to hold her?”

“I think you’ve got it under control for now.” The corner of his mouth quirked up a bit. “Never thought I’d see you holding a baby.”

You frowned at him. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Ah.” He ran a hand down his face. “Never mind.”

“No, tell me,” you insisted. “You brought it up.”

“It’s just, never in the two-plus years that we were together, did you ever mention wanting or even liking kids. You wanted your traveling and your career.” Bucky pulled up the ottoman and sat down in front of you. “So I just never thought I’d see the day.”

“Yeah, well, people change. Priorities change.” You looked back down at Noelle, not wanting him to see the hurt in your eyes. “I’ve grown a lot in the last four years.”

“I’m sure. On the, uh, occasions that I’ve read your blog, I could tell you were having a lot of life-changing adventures.”

This was certainly an interesting development. He all but admitted that he’s read your blog. You glanced back up at him. Little Noelle had fallen asleep in your arms again. “Which parts did you read?”

Bucky cleared his throat, shifting in his seat a little. “Well, I remember reading about your trip to Egypt.”

“That was a good one,” you nodded. “What else?” It was fun to see him squirm.

He made a face like he was struggling to recall. “I can’t really remember anything right off the top of my head.”

Now was the time to go in for the kill. “Oh! I know!” You gave him a smile. This was one he definitely had kept tabs on as _WishUWereHere_. “I did a big piece on my trip to Spain, did you read any of that?”

“Sounds familiar, now that you mention it,” he said, his eyes drifting down to look at the baby instead of you. “What, um…what did you see on that trip?”

“Oh, you know. I saw Barcelona, and the coastline all the way to Valencia, then I cut across to go see Toledo, then Madrid. And you surely if you read it you’d remember the funniest part: I got stuck on a broken down bus on a road that ran through the middle of sunflower fields?”

Bucky shrugged, still not meeting your eyes. “I honestly couldn’t say. Doesn’t really ring a bell.”

“And the bus driver was playing this really loud Spanish opera music, and I couldn’t even hear if we were supposed to find another way to Madrid, or if we were to stay on the bus?”

He was playing with his sleeve now. “That sounds really crazy.”

“So then maybe you’d remember that you asked for a picture of the sunflower fields, because you didn’t believe that I was surrounded by them, and I hopped off the bus to send you a few shots in the bright sunlight?”

Bucky’s head snapped up, his eyes wide. “What did you just say?”

You gave him a knowing look. _Busted._ “I said, I took pictures of the sunflower fields.”

“No,” he shook his head. “Before that.”

A mischievous grin appeared on your face. “I mentioned how you had asked for a picture of the sunflower fields.”

You had never seen Bucky look this stunned before in your entire life. Not even when you told him you’d taken the job at Frommer’s did he wear an expression that was this hilariously stupefied.

“How did you know it was me?” he asked quietly after a beat.

“I didn’t. Not when it happened,” you admitted, shifting the baby in your arms, which were now falling asleep. “Would you mind holding her so I can regain use of my arms for a second?”

“Sure,” he said, reaching carefully to support Noelle’s head as he stood and traded seats with you.

“Thank you.”

“So, when did you realize?” he asked, looking back at you. “What gave me away?”

“Nothing gave you away on the blog. You were brilliant at hiding your identity, which in hindsight must have been terribly hard since I knew you so well. No, I only realized it when I accidentally hit the browser on your phone a couple of days ago. You were logged into my site.”

“Oh.” Bucky looked down at Noelle as she yawned. “I can explain.”

“You don’t have to.” 

“I want to.” He cleared his throat again. “It’s actually not that deep, to be honest. I just- I wasn’t ready to let you go. It was so nice, so familiar, so _easy_ to fall into conversation with you, and I missed it. So I kept commenting, hoping you’d keep talking to me.”

“You next to never wanted to talk about traveling with me when we were together,” you pointed out.

“Because I knew it would be the one thing to take you away from me,” he said softly. “But once you were gone, I didn’t have to hate it anymore. There was no point. I had to try to move on.”

The two of you sat in contemplative silence for a few moments.

“Ana is lovely. I’m glad to have met her. I think she’s good for you, Buck.”

“I think so, too. I got lucky.”

You merely hummed your agreement, still not quite ready yet to agree with him there.

“Do you have any…have you met anyone?”

“No.” You shrugged. “Bouncing from place to place doesn’t really leave time to form lasting connections.”

“I suppose that’s true,” Bucky relented.

“I never said I was a saint, though,” you added airily, grinning when his jaw clenched.

“Anyways,” he muttered. “Steve’s been gone longer than twenty minutes. And your parents too, now that I think about it.” He looked around before meeting your eyes again. “We’ve been had.”

“Seems like it. Steve’ll be back soon. He can’t stay away from his little princess.”

Bucky brushed Noelle’s little tuft of blonde hair gently. “She looks just like Sharon.”

“Don’t let Steve hear you say that,” you warned. Watching him with your niece in his arms was affecting you more than you thought it would. “So when were you planning on popping the question to Ana?”

He started coughing so hard that he woke up the baby. You grabbed her from his arms while he went into the kitchen for water, his face totally red.

That was Steve’s cue to come rescue his daughter for her bedtime. “What did you guys do to my daughter?”

“Nothing, I swear! Bucky just had a cough, and she woke up.”

“Sharon will wake up and be upset if she hears her crying.” Steve cradled the baby and moved into the kitchen, shushing her softly as he went.

“Well, I think that’s my cue to leave,” Bucky said sheepishly, walking back in the room. He looked a little disheveled. “I should probably head back upstate anyways.”

That got your attention again. A slight wave of panic rolled through you, and you didn’t really understand it, but the sudden urge to get him to stay was _overwhelming_. You stood and faced him.

“You can’t leave me alone here, now! Steve is in full dad-mode, and Sharon is upstairs recovering. My parents have no interest in hanging out this late, even though it isn’t really that late at all.” You figured by now that your parents had snuck up the back staircase from the kitchen to the guest room upstairs. “They’ve probably already gone to bed, and I’m going to be alone and bored!”

“What do you suggest then?” he asked, turning his tired eyes back to you.

“I- I didn’t think that far ahead.”

Bucky chuckled, shaking his head. “It’s getting late. I don’t want to fall asleep while driving.” He turned to head to the front door.  

“I’m scared if you leave now I’ll never see you again,” you blurted out.

That stopped him in his tracks, but he didn’t turn around. You heard him release a deep breath, and his shoulders drooped. “Doll…”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your eyes filling with tears. “I’m _sorry_.”

He turned then, his face full of sympathy. “Don’t be sorry.”

You shook your head. “If you have to go, you should go. Don’t worry about it. I’ll tell Steve you left.” You blinked rapidly, trying to stave off the tears that were stinging your eyes, while you looked anywhere but his face.

“You know,” he began, his voice gentle as if to soothe your frayed nerves. “I never told you about this, and I made Steve promise not to tell you, either.”

“Tell me what?” you asked, your voice barely audible. You stared at a spot on the rug that looked suspiciously like a wine stain.

“There was one time, about six or seven months after you left for New York, that I was feeling really low. I just, I missed you _so much_ , and Steve was on a trip with Sharon and your parents, and my own family was too busy to talk to me…I had no one to talk to about how I felt.”

You still couldn’t look at him, and you said nothing, which prompted him to continue.

“So I decided one night, real late, on one of my worst days since the breakup, that I would drive to the city to see you.”

“To New York?” you asked, eyes snapping up to his.

He nodded. “Stupid right? It took forever, and I hadn’t planned anything out. I didn’t have anything but my GPS and some money to get gas. I didn’t even pack a bag. I didn’t even know where you lived. All I knew was you were in the city, because of your blog. But, I couldn’t get a hold of Steve, and I was too scared to text you to ask you to meet me someplace. I thought you’d tell me to turn around and go home.”

“What happened?” You were almost afraid to ask.

“I got there, chickened out, turned around, and went home,” he shrugged. “Didn’t even stop to see the city. It didn’t feel right to go sightseeing without you.”

Shit. You turned your head again, staring at the Christmas tree in the corner to try to get it together. “I wish you would have texted or called.”

“Maybe it just wasn’t meant to be.”

“Maybe not. Especially if…”

“If what?”

You forced yourself to offer him a smile. “Especially if you’ve got a ring.”

“A ring?” Bucky shook his head. “How did you know I had a ring?”

“Steve told me. He saw it when he was last over at your place. He told me that night I saw you at the bar, when you were with Ana.” You moved closer to him, that stupid smile still plastered on your face. “I’m happy for you, Bucky. She’s a lucky girl.”

There was an awkward pause as you both stared at each other.

Your discomfort made you open your mouth first. “Maybe you _should_ get going. I’m sorry for keeping you so long. Ana is probably worried, she probably misses you.”

“I should. Yeah, I should get going. It’s a long drive back.” Bucky turned to the door and walked quickly towards it. “Tell Steve I said bye, okay? And everyone else, too.”

“Sure, Buck,” you said quietly, moving to hold the front door open for him. “It was good to see you again. Thanks for all you’ve done for me this week.”

“It was good to see you again, too, Y/N.”

He made the first move to pull you into a hug, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. “Take care of yourself, okay? No more driving on black ice or anything.”

“You got it.” You pulled back, your smile sincere this time, though your heart was aching. “Bye, Bucky.”

“Bye, Doll.”

You watched him pull away again, knowing this time it was for good. He wasn’t yours to keep, he wasn’t yours to ask over anymore. He belonged to Ana now, and he’d moved on.

It was about damn time that you did, too. This upcoming year was going to be a fresh start for you. First things first, though…

You needed a plane ticket back to New York City.

* * *

The next morning, you let your family know that you had to leave. Everyone lined up in the foyer to see you off, even sweet little Dodger.

“Do you really have to leave so soon?” Sharon asked, frowning at you as baby Noelle gurgled happily in her arms. “It feels like you just got here!”

“I do,” you told her firmly. “I have a lot of things to do to prep for this New Year’s job, and then I want to wrap up my _Home for the Holidays_ article. It’s a big deal, a front page headline that I just can’t screw up.”

“We understand, Sis,” Steve said, leaning over to grab you in a big bear hug. Sharon hugged you next with her free arm, then you cooed at your baby niece, promising to visit again soon with toys and books for her.

You hugged your mom next, then your dad.

“Go get ‘em, princess,” he said with a wink.

“I always try my best, Dad.”

Steve carried your suitcase to the cab that was waiting to take you to the airport. You’d insisted on getting a cab so that they could spend as much time together as they could before work and regular life got in the way again.

“Listen, Sis, about Bucky…”

“It’s fine, Steve. We had a good talk last night, and I wished him well. I think we’re both okay.”

He eyed you. “You’re sure? You don’t need another round of brotherly advice, right?”

“Nope, I’m good. We didn’t have a whole lot of closure last time. This time, we let out some feelings we’d been holding in. I think it’s better this time. Besides, you’re his best friend. What good would it do?”

“That just means I care about both of you, and I want you both to be _incandescently happy_ for your entire lives.”

“He’s well on his way,” you said, shrugging one shoulder. “He and Ana will get married, and he’ll finally get the family he’s always dreamed of. Meantime, I’m plotting my next move. We’ll meet again in the spring and see how I’ve done, okay?”

“Okay. You take care of yourself.”

“You worry about taking care of my niece! Make sure she remembers who her favorite family member is!”

“She sees Dodger all the time though,” he joked.

“Funny!” You got in the cab and waved to him as the car drove down the street. Now that you were alone and had about fifteen minutes to the airport, you took the opportunity to check your flight status, your schedule for the next few days, and even the weather. The one place you weren’t looking, however, was your blog. That was going to have to wait until you finished your article.

The part about arriving home, and the piece on Scott’s bar were done. Part three was all about family and friends, which had been a piece of cake to write. The fourth part was what you were stuck on. The fourth part was about leaving it all behind again.

There were two different angles you could see writing, sad or happy, and you hadn’t decided which one to pick yet. _More choices_ , you thought to yourself, heaving a big sigh.

All you could do now was look forward, and leave past choices behind you for good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PS - The Spain thing? Actually happened to me. True story. It was bananas.


	6. Chapter 6

You sat in a little conference room at your office in New York, tapping your pen on the table impatiently while all three of your editors read and re-read your article. Yes, it was official, _Wander Woman: Home for the Holidays_ was a wrap, and just in time for your New Year’s assignment to take up the rest of your evening.

Each one of them was silent, save the occasional keyboard click as they read through your piece slowly and carefully.

Your head editor, Wanda, spoke up first. “You’re sure that you want to end it this way?”

Ah, yes. The ending _. Leaving it all behind to start anew._

It turned out, after much introspection, you were leaving behind _Wander Woman_ , too. This was your way of announcing it publicly.

You’d already notified your boss and HR that you were putting your two weeks in. They had made a counteroffer, one with more money and benefits to try to convince you to stay. Your boss informed you that your blog was the fastest growing part of the site, and the ad revenue you brought in had more than doubled last quarter.

The conclusion you had come to, however, was that Wander Woman didn’t have to end with your departure. More women should go on the kind of adventures you had. You’d been so lucky to have these opportunities, and you wanted to encourage other little girls or women who shared your dreams by giving them a chance, too.

You told them as much when you rejected their offer, but they really liked your proposal.

So, they agreed to keep you on as a consultant for now. You would help with content and help decide which locations would work best for the new girl once she was hired. You promised them that you loved the site and you wanted it to succeed; you’d worked too hard to let it go down the tubes by walking away.

But, as the last portion of your piece stated, all good things must come to an end.

“Yes,” you said firmly. “It’s time to pass the mantle to someone else. Four years is a long time to dedicate to one project, and I’m excited to move on.”

“Well, Y/N, we are definitely going to miss you here.” Your secondary editor, Clint, was probably your favorite of all three editors. He was such a goofball, and always down for an adventure. He was always there when you needed him. After a few months on the job, you’d started running your ideas past him before your supervisor, like the infamous cliff-diving adventure. He was always the first to say with total honesty whether it was a good idea or a bad one, and you trusted him implicitly.

“I’ll miss you guys, too,” you said, giving them a smile. “Best editors ever!”

“Don’t you forget it,” Pepper, your third editor chimed in. She was only your third editor because she was training with Clint. “And make sure you help the newbie out, okay, we don’t want any crazy weird stuff happening to them when it turns out not everyone can handle themselves as well as you.”

You laughed. “Well, I can only help so far through a phone or computer, but I’ll try.”

“I really loved this piece,” Wanda added. “I think you’ve shown so much growth in not only your writing, but your personal character over the years. I think it’s a fitting conclusion. We’ll send our notes over now so that you can publish it.”

“Thank you all so much. It meant a lot to me to have your support over the years, and especially today, with this farewell piece.”

“Just make sure it’s worth it,” Wanda said. “Go live your life the way you want to.”

You flashed her a big grin. “Count on it.”

* * *

This was it.

You were so _freaking_ nervous.

You stared at the two options on your screen: queue or publish.

If you added your piece to the queue, you would have time to make some calls and warn your family. You could let them know ahead of time that you’d decided to stop traveling as much and write a book. You could let them know you were even thinking of leaving the city, because without that constant paycheck, there was no way you could afford to stay.

Maybe you could settle down _near_ home, but closer to civilization.

Life had a way of making you see the bigger picture, though. This trip home made you realize that you were stuck in a rut. It was so hard to see, because you were constantly on the go, experiencing new things and seeing new places.

It wouldn’t seem like a rut to the person you were four years ago. To that version of yourself, you’d be a total rock star, living every day to the fullest. But you’d grown up enough, you’d seen and accomplished enough over your time away from home that it was no longer the end-all for you.

So, back to the dilemma at hand.

_Queue, or publish._

You took a second to re-read the last few bits, like you always did before you posted a new piece to your blog.

> _**Home for the Holidays.** _
> 
> _What does that even mean (besides the obvious)? I’m about to get real deep with you readers here today._
> 
> _You’ve read about my arrival, about my family and friends, and even Scott, the local business savant who brought a large city’s downtown shopping district back to life with the popularity of his bar._
> 
> _However, we all know that there wouldn’t be so many songs about coming home for the holidays and seeing loved ones if it didn’t mean so much to have that time with them, even if only for a little while._
> 
> _I know that not everyone has the same experience, and that going home could be the worst, most toxic thing to happen to someone. But you don’t understand the meaning of the songs if all that you’re picturing is a big house with a Christmas tree, with lights and stockings and presents._
> 
> _Home is more than a building. Home is where you feel loved and safe. Home can be your friend’s house, or a local library where you lost yourself in fictional adventures. Home can be people, too._
> 
> _Home, for me, is the people that I love. No matter where they are, each one of them is a piece of home._
> 
> _Four years ago I left home to follow my career dreams._
> 
> _I gave up my apartment, seeing my family every day, and worst of all, I let the love of my life slip away._
> 
> _It’s made me a stronger person overall, but now I see that while roaming the world brought me happiness for a time, my heart still longs for home. It always will. Some things have changed so much that I won’t ever have it back the way it was, and that part of my heart will always be missing (the one that got away, if you will), but I’m looking forward to the future either way._
> 
> _With this new optimism comes a bit of news: this will be my last full article as Wander Woman. I still have one last photo journal assignment, but Wander Woman will soon feature a new writer with new exciting adventures to share with everyone._
> 
> _I want you all to know that your comments and support over the years have meant so much to me. I couldn’t have done any of it without you or the support of a great travel site like Frommer’s._
> 
> _I want to encourage you to travel, to see those places that call to you in your soul, because you won’t regret a second of it. Just make sure that when you do, you bring a little piece of home with you._
> 
> _Have a safe, healthy, and happy New Year._
> 
> _I’ll be seeing you!_
> 
> **- _Y/N_**

Your eyes clouded over with unshed tears as you instinctively, _impulsively_ hit publish. It was too late to turn back now.

It only took a few moments for your longtime readers to shower you with messages of both support and surprise. Each one, however, told you to follow your heart, and for that you were grateful.

For once, the choice was easy.

* * *

“Did you have this planned the whole time you were home?” Steve asked over the phone. He’d called you as soon as he had seen the notification from your blog.

“No,” you admitted. “It’s just…seeing you guys with Noelle, and being home again, it really shook me up, Steve.”

“And seeing Bucky with someone else had nothing to do with it?”

You pressed your lips in a thin line, but didn’t reply.

“Y/N?”

“Okay, _maybe_ ,” you relented finally. “But it isn’t what you think. Seeing him happy with Ana made me want to be happy with someone, too. Is that so bad?”

“You’re just a bit late to the party, don’t you think?”

“No, I’m actually early,” you quipped. “They are setting up the barriers now, and triple-checking the wiring and light bulbs for the ball drop later. Did you know that one ton of confetti will be dropped here tonight? Can you even imagine how much overtime the cleanup -”

“You’re rambling again, Sis,” Steve interrupted.

“What do you want me to say?” you asked softly. He’d seen you around Bucky. It’s not like he didn’t know how you still felt about his best friend. “He’s moved on, he’s going to ask her to marry him. I can’t ask him to consider me again, Steve. I broke his heart.”

“He broke yours, too, remember? Neither of you would compromise.”

“He did exactly what I asked him to once I realized we didn’t want the same things.”

“And now look at you. He got what he wanted, and you are just coming around to wanting it, too.”

You exhaled, your eyes dropping to the pavement in front of you. “Steve, I can’t live in the past. It isn’t healthy.”

“Has he seen your post? Didn’t you say he had an account?”

“I haven’t had time to check,” you admitted. “I kind of hit post and ran out of there to come do this last assignment.”

“What if I asked him about it?”

“Leave them be, Steve. You said it yourself, he’s going to ask Ana to marry him. I have to go, okay? I will call before the ball drops. I love you.”

Steve sighed on the other end. “I love you too, little sister.”

* * *

Your task for the evening was pretty simple so far. All you were doing was taking prep shots. You weren’t normally asked to take a lot of photographs, but they wanted to give you something to add you your portfolio. The digital graphics team could spruce them up later if they were a tad out of focus or anything like that.

Your phone started buzzing in your pocket, but your equipment was so bulky and heavy that you couldn’t manage to reach it before it stopped. It was probably your boss, or maybe one of your editors.

“Shit,” you muttered, placing the camera strap around your neck before digging your phone back out of your pocket.

Nope, it was Steve, _again._

The little notification appeared to let you know he left a voicemail. Didn’t he realize that you were busy? _Not everyone gets to party tonight_ , you thought to yourself, feeling a small tinge of bitterness. You shoved your phone back in your pocket, determined to focus on your task.

When the sun finally went down hours later, and more tourists and party-goers arrived, you decided to walk around and talk to people. You were trying to find a couple of heart-warming stories to accompany some of the pictures. Photos are nice by themselves, but they are always more interesting when you accompany them with a human interest story.

You were drawn almost immediately to a young couple just inside the barrier to your left. They had their arms wrapped around each other, and every so often they would kiss and smile at each other as if they were the only two people in Times Square.

“Excuse me,” you said to the closest person. You hated to interrupt their moment, but there was no way you were letting them slip away. “Hi, I’m Y/N and I’m taking photos for Frommer’s travel site. Would you mind terribly if I took your photo for our New Year’s Eve gallery?”

They seemed really excited to be featured, and signed off on your waiver like it was nothing. It turned out that they were newlyweds from Minnesota, and neither had been to New York before.

You managed to speak to about ten other couples as the countdown drew closer. There was a wide variety of high school sweethearts, veterans who met in the military, friends who became lovers, and even one couple who met after she started getting his mail by accident!

There were so many different beautiful stories that it started giving more and more you hope that you’d find someone new, too.

What was originally going to be a story about tourists in Times Square, all jammed together to watch a giant light bulb drop from a tower, turned in to a story about couples, and love and hope for a new year. You were starting to get really excited for the piece, and wanted to make your final solo contribution to Frommer’s really count.

First, though, you needed someone to take down your ideas with you. You settled the heavy equipment bag on the ground between your feet and this time when you reached for your phone, you dialed Clint’s number.

“Y/N, what’s up?” The noise in the background of his call was deafening.

“Can you get someplace a little quieter?” you asked, frowning at the giant countdown clock. You only had about an hour before midnight, and you had a lot of ideas you wanted someone to note for you.

“I’m actually in Times Square right now, too!”

You glanced around. “Where?”

A giant arm started waving across the way, and you saw Clint flash his press badge to the security guard at the barrier he had been in.

He grinned at you, his arms opening wide as he grabbed you into a tight hug. “You know, I was gonna say ‘how’s my favorite travel blogger,’ but since you’re leaving me I’m just gonna say Happy New Year!”

“Oh, shut up,” you chuckled, wiggling out of his arms. “Can you carry this for me? I’m tired of lugging it.”

“Sure thing, hand it over.”

You happily slid the bag off your shoulder and transferred it to him, along with the camera around your neck. “Think you could get a couple shots of me for the blog? It is my swan song, after all!”

“You act like you’re dying,” Clint teased.

“No, just about to enjoy a far more private existence for a while.” You smiled wistfully at the thought. No more selfies for work. Now you can take selfies of you and Noelle and post them to a private Instagram instead. You couldn’t wait.

“Well just let me know when you’re ready.”

“Hang on. I forgot to call my brother back.” For the tenth time that night you reached for your phone, but this time, your curiosity got the best of you, and you decided to check the feedback on your article.

Maybe, just _maybe_ you were hoping to see a certain username.

But as you scrolled quickly through what had to be over a thousand comments already, you didn’t find what you were looking for.

Instead of allowing yourself time to be disappointed, you quickly clicked on the voicemail from Steve. All that you could hear was a garbled message with a clear word here and there. Even the transcription was choppy at best. All you could read was “ _Y/N…..Dad…miles…ticket…you.”_

What the hell did that mean?

“From the confused look on your face, it was either something really stupid or something that didn’t make sense.”

You looked up at Clint. “It didn’t make sense. It was just five random words, and I don’t really get it. I’ll call him later. Who knows, maybe he’s been drinking already.”

Clint grinned. “Some people have all the fun.”

The two of you picked up and moved a little closer, past the stage where you could see Anderson Cooper and Kathy Griffin talking to some poor D-lister. When you got to a spot that would give you a good shot of the countdown clock, you both stopped.

When there was only five minutes left, you felt your phone buzz again. Steve was texting you this time. Thank goodness.

_Where are you? Mom and Dad want to know if you’re going to be on TV?_

You smirked. Every time you were at an event, your parents assumed you were going to be shown on camera. _I’m near a lamp post in front of Kathy Griffin. Make sure you tell Mom, she loves her!_

He didn’t reply for a minute, so you figured he’d lost interest.

But when the clock winded down to sixty seconds, he texted again. _What’s the closest store or sign near you?_

_Steve, there’s no way I’m going to be on TV._

_Just tell me!_

You let out an annoyed huff before replying with the information. _Happy now? When Mom and Dad don’t see me and get mad, it’s your fault._

No reply.

“Whatever,” you muttered, shoving your phone away again. Fifteen seconds left. “This is my fourth year in a row without anyone to kiss on New Year’s Eve,” you said mournfully.

You looked over to where Clint had been, but he was gone. You saw him flirting with a CNN production assistant, that _asshole_.

You let out a sigh of self-pity and turned back to the clock, watching as the ball slipped further and further toward the bottom, where a sign would light up with the new year on it.

_Ten…_

“Alone again,” you muttered, hugging your arms to your body for comfort and warmth.

_Nine…_

_Eight…_

_Seven…_

All around you the crowd was deafening. You never thought it was possible to feel this alone surrounded by millions of people.

_Six…_

_Five…_

_Four…_

_Three…_

_Two…_

A hand reached for your arm and you turned, expecting to see Clint.   
  
Your eyes widened in shock.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Enjoy the cheese!

> _You let out a sigh of self-pity and turned back to the clock, watching as the ball slipped further and further toward the bottom, where a sign would light up with the new year on it._
> 
> _Ten…_
> 
> _“Alone again,” you muttered, hugging your arms to your body for comfort and warmth._
> 
> _Nine…_
> 
> _Eight…_
> 
> _Seven…_
> 
> _All around you the crowd was deafening. You never thought it was possible to feel this alone surrounded by millions of people._
> 
> _Six…_
> 
> _Five…_
> 
> _Four…_
> 
> _Three…_
> 
> _Two…_
> 
> _A hand reached for your arm and you turned, expecting to see Clint.  
>   
>  Your eyes widened in shock._

* * *

_One_ …

The ball dropped and the new year sign lit up brilliantly. All around you, people kissed and hugged and shouted ‘Happy New Year!’ Confetti and streamers sparkled into the sky and rained down all around you.

It was all a blur, all muffled noises and colors swirling. You blocked it _all_ out.

The only thing you could focus on was the man standing in front of you.

Bucky gave you a lopsided smile. “Happy New Year, Doll.”

Your heart started racing, confusion filling your brain and crossing your features. “What are you-“

He cut you off when he leaned over and pressed his lips to yours, cupping your cheek gently.

It was so gentle, so tender that it brought tears to your eyes. Emotions overwhelmed you. It had been so long since someone had kissed you. It had been _so long_ since _Bucky_ had kissed you.

You let yourself get lost in the moment, there in Times Square on New Year’s Day, just after midnight. The kiss you’d been longing for was _finally_ yours. You’d known deep down this whole time that you’d wanted him back. It was always him.

You didn’t let your mind process anything except the feel of his lips caressing yours. _Kiss now, question after._

You kissed him back with fervor, curling your arms around his neck. His free arm went around your back, pulling your body flush against his. The two of you kissed like that for probably only a minute, though it felt like hours. You clung to each other, to the familiarity of it all.

Bucky pulled back slowly, resting his forehead on yours. “God, I missed you,” he breathed out.

“What are you doing here, Buck?” you asked, pulling back just enough to look at him. Your eyes searched his, and you hoped you weren’t imagining things. “You are really here, aren’t you?”

He chuckled, his laugh lines making him look even more handsome than you remembered. Bucky’s eyes were so full of love, so focused on you that you found it hard to breathe properly. “I’m here,” he promised, his thumb now caressing your cheek. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

“But, how? What about _Ana_? I have _so many_ questions,” you sputtered, shaking your head. “None of this makes any sense.”

“Let’s get out of the middle of the street first,” he suggested, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as he led you aside, and out of the confetti and streamers. The sounds of Frank Sinatra’s ‘ _New York, New York_ ‘ blared around you, as everyone celebrated the end of what was probably one of the craziest, most depressing years in recent memory.

The two of you stopped once you were a block away from the festivities, and he turned back to you. “It’s a little quieter here for us to talk.”

“Bucky…” You were desperate for answers, and he knew it. You didn’t have the strength for this to be anything but real, but you needed it to be for the right reasons. You needed to not leave any victims in your wake.

“I read your article,” he admitted, his hands dropping to reach for yours. He intertwined your fingers before continuing. “I read about your plans to leave here and come home. I read about how you wanted to settle down. I read and re-read that part where you said you let the love of your life get away. I read that probably a hundred times, trying not to get my hopes up before I could clarify things.”

You watched his face carefully.

“Ana happened to see me reading it, too.” Bucky’s eyes looked down to your joint hands. “She saw the state I was in after reading it, then she asked if we could talk, and she proceeded to list every reason why she didn’t want to be with me anymore.”

His eyes flickered back up to yours. “I think her exact words were, ‘I can’t be with someone who is still in love with someone else.’”

You breathed in sharply. “What?”

“Come on, Doll. You can’t tell me you didn’t know.”

“Bucky, I swear I didn’t know. I thought you had a ring, I thought you were going to propose to Ana! You’ve been together _so long_. Oh, god!” You pulled away and turned, pacing a few times. “Oh god, what have I done? I’ve _confused_ you! I made you nostalgic, you’re confusing your feelings for me, and you-“

“Would you please calm down?” Bucky reached for you, and you stopped in your tracks. “Calm down, Y/N, you didn’t do _anything_ to me. I’m not confused, I promise.” He moved so he was in front of you again, his hands bracing your arms to steady you. “You _know_ I’ve been keeping up with your life, you saw it yourself! My freaking username literally said ‘wish you were here.’ Doll, I _never_ let you go. Physically, you left, but I never let you go, not really.”

Your eyes welled with tears again, and you looked down at your shoes. This couldn’t be real; you didn’t deserve this. He had Ana, poor Ana…

He exhaled slowly, his grip on your arms loosening just a little. “Every day, I wanted to make that drive to New York. Every day, I kicked myself for leaving, for giving up that one time I actually did make the drive. You have no idea how much I hated myself for letting you leave, thinking that it was over between us, thinking that I didn’t want to share your dreams and your life with you. I wasn’t fair to you with the ultimatum I gave. I wasn’t fair to Ana. It was _me_ that was in the wrong. I never really gave her my whole heart. It wasn’t even in my possession to give. It was with you this whole time.”

You sniffled, unable to stop tears from streaming down your cheeks.

Bucky reached out and lifted your chin, gently coaxing you to look at him again. “Doll, please don’t cry.”

“I’m sorry,” you rasped out. “I’m so, so sorry, Bucky. I never meant to be a burden, to mess with your life like this. Ana was so sweet, she was good for you, and-“

“And she wasn’t you,” he interrupted. “She _wasn’t you,_ Doll. She was never going to be you. You’re it for me. I’ve known since that first Christmas at your parents’ house.”

You threw your arms around him with a sob, clinging to him with all the emotion you’d felt for the last four years coursing through your body. He needed to know, even if you weren’t exactly proud of how you had behaved. “The longer I was gone, the easier it was to convince myself I’d done the right thing.”  

His arms tightened around your waist, but he didn’t say anything, letting you have your say this time. 

“I distracted myself constantly. The distance helped. Work became my whole life. I even stayed away from home and my family. I was scared that I would see you happy with someone, and I’d regret everything. I was scared that I’d look at you, and you’d look back at me as if I was a stranger.”

You felt him let out a shuddered breath.

“I didn’t think I was right for you anymore,” you continued in a watery voice. It felt really good to let the words out after holding them back for so long. “I wanted you to be with someone who shared your dreams, to stay and have a family. I wasn’t good enough for you then.”

“You were,” he countered softly. “Doll, you still are.”

“Bucky,” you whispered, stroking the back of his head gently, reveling in the feel of his body against yours. If this street was going to be a makeshift confessional, you were going to let it _all_ out. There was no way your first act of the new year would be to withhold your feelings.

No more of that, _ever again_.

“Bucky, I think we both messed up. But I _never_ stopped loving you. No matter where I went; every city, every beach, every sunset…they all would have been better if you were with me.”

You leaned back to look at him, and he reached up to brush your tears away. His beautiful blue eyes were red-rimmed with his own unshed tears. “Please don’t cry,” he repeated.

“What about the ring?” you asked, your voice timid.

“I’ve had that ring for five years, Doll.” He gave you a knowing look. “Not to startle you.”

_Five_ years? Realization hit you like a ton of bricks. It had been for you…he’d meant to propose before you left him behind. “Oh, Bucky…”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Your brother is nosy as hell, by the way. I wish he’d have gotten his facts right before he went blubbering to you about it.”

You let out a laugh, feeling lighter than you had in years. “He means well.”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “He’s why I’m here. He and your dad pooled their flyer miles to get me a plane ticket so I’d get here in time. I hustled as fast as I could without looking suspicious to all the police.” He shrugged sheepishly. “I’m the reason Steve asked where you were standing.”

Your brother’s garbled voicemail from earlier suddenly made more sense to you. You couldn’t believe your family worked together to do this for you. “So, here you are.”

“Here I am.” His eyes stared into yours, before he shook his head again. “I know you’re worried about her, but Ana is okay, I promise. We talked about it, we made peace with everything, and she’s actually the one that drove me to the airport.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. “I’m going to have to send her a basket of puppies or something to make up for this. She’s unreal.”

“She is kind,” Bucky agreed. “And understanding. She’d lost a love before she found me, too.” His mouth quirked up again. “Anyways, shouldn’t we be talking about us, now?”

“There’s an ‘ _us’_ now,” you marveled, blinking at him. A slow grin appeared on your lips. “Are we an _‘us’_ again?”

He smirked. “Well, no offense Doll, but I didn’t make this unbelievably grand romantic gesture at the last second for nothing.”

You both laughed, then he leaned over and kissed you again. The thought of being able to kiss him whenever you wanted made you happier than you could say.

“What do you say, Doll?” Bucky pulled back, brushing his hand through your hair lovingly. “Come home with me?”

“Hmmm. Can we move closer to the city?” You bit back a grin. Just because you loved him didn’t mean you wanted to live in the sticks. “You’d have a longer commute to work.”

“After all this, you think I give a shit about my commute?” Bucky threw his head back laughing. “Oh, that’s a good one, Doll.”

Now you let yourself smile again. “Just making sure ahead of time, Buck.”

“Whatever you want,” he promised, resting his forehead on yours again.

“Hey, lovebirds! Guess which couple is going to be featured in the New Year’s Eve photo gallery tomorrow?”

You pulled back and whirled around, seeing Clint standing off to the side with an evil grin on his face. Your camera from earlier was in his hands, and he was aiming it at you and Bucky. “Clint, you didn’t!”

“Oh, but I did,” he said, nodding a greeting at Bucky. “I got the two of you back in the middle of Times Square, too. We’re gonna write the conclusion that your readers want, and it’s gonna get published!”

Bucky wrapped his arm around your waist and looked at you in question.

You looked back at him, smiling so hard your face hurt. “Happily Ever After,” you explained. “My readers want a happily ever after.”

“Ah,” he nodded, his blue eyes bright. “A new year, a new place, a new chance, and a happily ever after…” Bucky returned your smile. “Yeah, that sounds perfect.”


End file.
